Near Miss
by Zeng Li
Summary: Captain Stanley narrowly escapes serious injury when debris from an explosion nearly penetrates his air mask. John and Roy come to his aid and get him to Rampart. It's basically h/c and a rescue with little else for plot, written especially for fans of Captain Stanley. Heavily revised 1/10/2016.


**Near Miss**

 _By: Zeng Li_

 _Based on the characters and 'world' of the 1970s TV series "Emergency!"_

 _NOTE: This is a_ _major_ _revision since the last time this story was posted._

The explosion showered the three men with pieces of brick and hot shards of metal. A pipe hidden by a wall had ruptured, hot gases expanding into a rolling cloud of orange flame and debris scattered into the room.

Perhaps no projectile hit harder than the one that struck the clear visor of Captain Hank Stanley's air mask. The impact along with the blast wave of the gas pocket explosion threw the captain backwards ten feet and into a hard fall onto his right side. The heavy steel air tank strapped to his back rang loudly when it hit the concrete floor, alarming the hose jockeys who managed to stay on their feet that a man was down. Flames rushed overhead for a few seconds as the fuel burned, simmering to a billow of black smoke that filled the room.

Marco and Chet retreated a few steps, unrelenting with their hoses pumping full-blast into the smoke-gushing maw that had opened in the cinderblock wall. The explosive flare-up succumbed quickly to the water and depletion of fuel, simmering down as the men left standing fought hard to prevent a secondary explosion. Eight's engine crew was on their way to join the battle, but they were still laying hose and hooking up to the pumper.

Hank lay dazed as he fumbled for his handy talkie to call for assistance, the black smoke in front of him so thick, he couldn't see the men in front of him. He nearly had the communicator out of his turnout pocket when two sets of hands grabbed him by either arm and dragged him in a hurry back to the entrance to the room. He had no idea if they were 51's paramedics or men from Engine 8, but he was thankful to be out of the thickest of the smoke.

"Engine 51, HT 51," said a voice muffled by a firefighter's air mask, it wasn't clear who was speaking. "We have a Code-I. Evacuating Captain 51 to the squad. Request an ambulance!"

"I'm okay," the captain said, fighting to be heard over the restriction of his own mask along with the roar of the two blasting hoses in the adjacent room. His right arm twitched in pain from the fall on his side where the elbow pressed into the solid ground. It felt superficial and would likely leave a bruise. He was unable to alert his rescuers to go easy on him when strong arms locked around his chest and lifted. A hazy figure in the black fog lifted up his feet. With the added weight of their own air tanks plus the captain's, it was a strenuous haul, but the determined young paramedics got Hank clear of danger.

More hoses and heavy boots stampeded by as the captain felt himself lowered to the unforgiving pavement where the squad and fire apparatus were parked. He was placed sitting upright so the hands that rescued him could free him of the heavy air tank. One rescuer straddled his legs to work on loosening his tank harness.

"Relax, Cap'," said John Gage's voice, the young man having freed himself of his air mask prior to tending to the victim. Hank could not see him. His vision was horribly clouded, but he could at least orientate himself to determine who his rescuers were. "An ambulance is on the way."

The man behind him swiftly relieved the captain of the bulky air tank while Johnny loosened and removed the Hank's helmet. "Watch his neck," said Roy DeSoto from behind, his ungloved hands on either side of the captain's head to support it while his partner worked.

Captain Stanley blinked a few times, still unable to see clearly. He sucked clean air through his mask, unsure if they were fully clear of the smoke yet or not. Johnny's hands gripped the harness to Hank's air mask and carefully pulled the straps up to remove it from the man's head.

"Easy, Cap'," Johnny said. "Something hit your facepiece and broke the visor pretty bad. Close your eyes in case there's debris until I get it off."

The senior paramedic kept the captain sitting upright and his neck supported while his younger partner pulled the mask slowly off the injured man's face. Both paramedics observed the large spider web fracture pattern the strike left on the visor.

Johnny examined the cracked visor, scraping at the inside of the clear material with his finger. "I don't think there's any debris from the visor," he said. "You don't feel any debris in your eyes, do you, Cap?" His penlight was ready as he waited for a reply.

The captain blinked, his vision much clearer than it was a moment ago. His left hand crossed his chest and held his bruised right elbow. "No, I'm okay!" he said over the noise all around them.

Together, the paramedics laid Captain Stanley down on his back. Roy kept the man's neck steady and used his own gloves as a functional barrier between the victim's head and the gritty asphalt ground. Someone from 8's engine company on scene ran up to them and deposited the bio-phone and medical equipment from the squad next to them before racing off again.

Johnny leaned forward, checking his captain's pupils while next to him, Roy already had the man's left arm out of the turnout coat. His stethoscope and blood pressure cuff were ready to take vitals. Johnny pocketed his penlight and dragged the bio-phone closer.

"He's lucky," Johnny looked up to his partner. "No facial injuries." Shifting his gaze down to their patient, he asked the captain, "Are you hurt anywhere else? Do you have trouble breathing?"

"No," said Hank, arching his neck forward and trying to sit up. Roy held him down, having to abandon closing the blood pressure cuff fully to do so. "Chet! Marco!"

"Chet and Marco are fine," Roy pressed the man's shoulders to get him to lie back. "We're gonna have a look at you, okay? Don't move around so much."

Captain Stanley had another go at trying to sit up. "I fell on my arm," he groaned, massaging the elbow even though he could bend it without additional pain.

Johnny pulled the man's turnout coat down and helped him ease his arm out. The exposed elbow was a little rosy over the bony end of the Humerus. A quick feel of the joint and surrounding anatomy had the paramedic fairly certain there was no fracture. Hank put his hand back over the pain and softly massaged his tender flesh.

"I think you have a nasty bruise," Johnny said, placing his comforting hand on top of the captain's. "Anything else hurt? Your wrist or shoulder…?"

Hank shook his head but was soon distracted by a nagging need to remove a small loose object from his mouth. He ungloved his left hand and reached in to recover a small piece of debris off the tip of his tongue.

Johnny seized the captain's hand and the small bit of debris he had on a fingertip. "Looks like you chipped a tooth, Cap," he said, forcing the man's jaw open so he could examine further for blood or other damage. "Nothing serious," the young paramedic replied, unable to see where the chip might have come from and observing there was no bleeding. He probed fingers around the hinge of the captain's jaw. "Any pain around here?"

"No," Hank said, his tongue searching around inside his mouth for where the tip of molar had broken off from.

Roy took a blood pressure reading while the captain was distracted. He scrawled notes down while his partner lifted the captain's damaged air mask.

"Cap, you took a pretty hard hit, wouldn't you say?" Johnny asked, holding the mask so the patient could see. Hank looked mildly dazed, one eyebrow rising with the realization of how bad he was hit. Johnny looked up to his partner. "Roy, the impact might've jerked his neck back. Even if he's not in pain now, we should put him in a collar to be safe."

"All right," Roy said calmly. "Get it from the squad. I'll phone Rampart."

Hank leaned up on his elbows. Roy immediately pressured him to lie back down. "Guys, I'm okay…" the captain protested even while his consciousness whirled for a brief second.

Johnny returned quickly and immediately came at him with the neck brace. "Take it easy. This is just a precaution," he assured. The young paramedic strapped the collar carefully around Captain Stanley's neck then eased the man's head back down onto the crude cushion offered by Roy's gloves.

"Squad 51 to Rampart base…" Roy held the phone with one hand, the other hand on Hank's chest counting breaths while waiting for a reply.

The captain shifted uncomfortably. The brace wasn't too tight, but he disliked how it limited his ability to bend his head up to check on the state of the burning structure or any of his men last known to still be inside.

"Go ahead, 51," came the reply from Dr. Kelly Brackett.

"Rampart, we have an injured firefighter. Male, age 38. He was struck in the visor of his air mask with debris from an explosion. He's complaining of a chipped tooth and sore elbow. There's no other facial trauma, and no evidence of fracture to the arm. We've applied a cervical collar as a precaution due to the force of impact."

"Fifty-one, did the patient lose consciousness?"

"Negative, Rampart."

"Pupils equal and reactive," Johnny reported while loosening the captain's uniform shirt.

"Rampart, pupils equal and reactive," Roy relayed to Rampart. "The BP is 115 over 70. Pulse is 110 and strong. Respiration is 16 and normal."

"Ten-four," replied Dr. Brackett's steady voice. "Continue to monitor vitals. Give him some supplemental oxygen and start an IV of normal saline. Fifty-one, is there an ambulance on scene?"

"Ten-four, Rampart: supplemental oxygen and IV of normal saline. Negative on the ambulance, but one is en route with no ETA."

"Keep me posted and report any changes."

"Ten-four, Rampart. Rampart, be advised the patient is Captain Hank Stanley."

"Ten-four, 51. Transport as soon as possible."

Johnny was prepared with the IV fluid and stuck it in the captain's left arm with no further protests from the injured man. "You're gonna be all right, Cap," said the paramedic, taping the IV tube down to the man's forearm to keep it stabilized.

Hank rubbed his forehead with his free hand, testing his bruised elbow. It didn't hurt too bad. He inhaled deeply and forced out a therapeutic sigh. "Thanks, guys," he said in surrender.

Roy hooked a nasal cannula over Hank's ears and positioned the tubes under the nostrils. "Just take it easy, Cap," he said, his own pulse lowering as the height of the crisis seemed to be over.

Around them, several charged hoses slackened and their 51's colleagues exited the smoldering warehouse. Chet and Marco were covered in gray soot. They removed their helmets and air masks, smoke residue clinging to their skin anywhere that hadn't been covered by the breathing apparatus. They stopped to check on their fallen captain.

Roy looked up and smiled. "He's gonna be just fine."

Johnny held the IV bag and looked over to the men fresh from the fire. "You guys all right?"

"Yeah," they each said. Marco brushed his gloved hand over his turnout, and Chet brushed soot off his helmet.

"Where'd you get hit, Cap?" Marco asked.

Unable to lift his head, the captain blindly reached for his air mask. His groping hand couldn't find it, so Johnny held it up for him.

"Good…grief…" Chet said slowly. "Thank God you were wearing that."

"I'll ride in with him, Roy," Johnny said as the faint wail of the ambulance siren drew nearer. "How's your head, Cap?"

The captain's head again swirled as he forced in a sharp breath to reground himself. The full reality of how much he'd lucked out would hit him later. The realization was temporarily stowed in his subconscious and denied by the waking mind.

"My ears are still ringing."

Roy pat the man lightly on the shoulder. "The ambulance is here. You're gonna be okay, Cap." He stowed his stethoscope and the BP cuff.

Roy and Johnny helped the ambulance crew lift Hank onto the wheeled gurney, leaving the man's coat, helmet, and splintered air mask behind. Soon, two vehicles drove off to escort the fallen fire captain to Rampart Hospital.

[ . . . ]

Doctors Brackett and Early received Station 51's captain as soon as he arrived. The Squad 51 paramedics accompanied their fallen comrade into the treatment room. During the ride in, Hank had surrendered to mild fatigue left in the wake of his lowered adrenalin levels. He submitted easily to the sometimes invasive exam.

John and Roy watched silently, standing off to the side. The less urgent the doctors were, the more reassured they felt that nothing was seriously wrong. Even though they trusted that most of their rescue effort was precautionary, they were never fully assured until getting the verdict from a doctor.

"Well, you escaped without a concussion," Dr. Brackett's baritone voice assured the captain. Hank smiled weakly. "We're going to take a few x-rays of your neck, head, and arm just to be safe. If all looks well, we should be able to take that collar off of you." He looked up at the paramedics. Johnny just shrugged.

"Like I told them, my neck doesn't hurt, Doc."

"You might find it to be a little sore in the morning," Joe Early said as he walked by on the way out of the room so the portable x-ray tech could take the requested images. The doctors, nurses, and paramedics left the room together.

"Any time we have to bring a firefighter in, it's like bagging a wild beast. They all protest so much," Johnny said to both break the tension and vent his anxiety over the captain's condition.

"When do I ever protest?" Roy asked.

"You're protesting right now!" Johnny was quick to point out.

"Yeah, well you're often no fun as a patient around here either," said Joe.

The doctors laughed at the banter between the friends. "I think he's going to be just fine," Dr. Brackett told them. "The chipped tooth can easily be fixed as a routine procedure at his dentist's office. A few bruises and a little soreness, but he'll be fine in a week. I just want the pictures to make sure we don't miss anything."

"I know," said Johnny. "Thanks, Doc."

Kel pat him on the arm. "I'll be back when the x-rays are in."

"They don't need us at the scene," said Johnny. "When the tech is done in there, we should keep him company. He's probably worried about the rest of our men anyway."

Roy lifted his HT. "Squad 51 available at Rampart."

"Hey, do we really need to be available right now? I don't want the Cap left alone if we're called on a run."

Roy just eyed his partner. "Not much more we can do for him here. There's 25,000 other people in our response area who might need us more."

"Cap needs us!"

Roy shook his head and guided his partner's shoulder to follow him to get coffee in the doctor's lounge. He was right, but in those few minutes, none of their corner of Los Angeles needed them anyway.

The next they saw Captain Stanley, he was sitting propped up on the exam table with his neck free of the collar. The x-ray films on the light boxes were of no further concern to the doctors. An attending nurse held an ice pack on the bruised elbow.

"We'll get his discharge papers ready. You can take him home soon," said Dr. Brackett, pressing a small bandage over the puncture hole from where the IV needle had just been removed from the captain's arm. "Bed rest for 24 hours then take it easy until you feel better. Ice the elbow several times a day as needed. Expect to be off work for about a week. Come by and we'll clear you for duty when you're ready."

"Thanks, Doc," Hank said.

"We're radioed in as available, Cap," said John, implicating his partner's guilt.

Roy sighed and gave a not-so apologetic look for following the rules.

Johnny grimaced. "Let's get you out of here and back to the station before we're sent on another run. You can rest in the dorm until we can get you a ride home. And no asking about the fire! As of now, you're officially off duty."

The weary captain grimaced ruefully. He'd get it out of them soon enough, but last he remembered there didn't appear to be much concern at the site. The nurse brought him a script for prescription pain medicine and his discharge papers.

Hank stood up with his paramedics on either side to lend support if he needed it. He lifted his good arm, leaning it slightly on Roy's shoulder. He wanted to appear as a man not needing any support, but Roy and Johnny knew that because they themselves were guilty of the same thing. They each loosely held the back of Hank's belt as they protectively flanked their shift captain.

[ . . . ]

The rest of their shift had returned to the station moments before the squad arrived with the captain. The entire team worked to settle him into his bunk and make him comfortable until his wife arrived to bring him home.

Johnny added an extra pillow for him to rest on, still concerned about the way the impacting debris had jerked the man's head back. "You're sure there's no pain in your neck?" he asked once the crew had their captain settled on the bed.

"Just fine," Hank replied. "Except for a big pain in it named John Gage."

Johnny laughed sheepishly while the rest of the crew laughed at him.

Mike Stoker brought in the damaged air mask that had saved the captain's life as well as good looks. "This saved your life, Cap," he said.

"Damn," the captain muttered, looking at the expansive cracks in the clear visor that had been the only barrier between him and a nasty, disfiguring, and potentially lethal injury. He ran his hand over his chest where a few other pieces had struck him with far less force.

"We're a little dinged up, too," said Chet. "It was easy to forget about a little spot of pain here and there while we were so busy getting the fire knocked down."

"Thanks for your concern, fellas. I was worried about you guys, too, you know." Hank turned the broken mask over in his hands one more time, still too shocked to fully absorb how close he came to serious injury. "Here, Mike," he finally said, turning the artifact over to his engineer specialist. "Send it to the county to write off and order me a new one. Should have a new one in by the time I'm ready to return to work."

The station's tones dropped and the confirmation klaxon blared. "Squad 51, difficulty breathing…"

The paramedics ran off to their response, the firemen left behind glad that the call wasn't going to involve the engine company this time.

John and Roy were still out on the call when Hank's wife came to pick him up. When they returned, the place felt so much emptier without him. They were just thankful that in a few short days, he'd be back with them and refreshed after getting the rest he needed.

= = The End = =


End file.
